


Undead Stories From Hollywood

by orphan_account



Category: 9lives (Band), Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Don't know where this is going, Random - Freeform, more tags later on, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-10-24 17:13:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10746198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I got struck by the thought to write some one shots to fill some time between other fanfics, so here it is ...(gifted to AwokenMonster for making me a fan of one shots)





	1. Fuck Those Haters I See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AwokenMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwokenMonster/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it goes - first try ... I hope you enjoy it.  
> I didn't want to go with Danny as the hated one because I have the feeling that there already are many good fanfics and one shots about that so ... Johnny gets to suffer.

The second Deuce had left the band, stepped off the bus and threatened them, George knew he would get no rest in the next months, or even years. So when he listened to When We Ride he was outraged, for sure, but not really surprised. And to be honest, he was more angered by the factthat Deuce stole their song than by the fact that he insulted him directly. It was true, he had been putting on weight, but he didn’t expect Deuce to know muscles weighed more than fat. Frankly, he didn’t give a shit if he got bigger.

It was only the fans he was worried about. The few tweets about it, he could ignore easily, just shutting off his phone for a while and reading a good book. The signs fans held up were making him a little more aggressive than necessary, but he decided to fixate his gaze on the fans who enjoyed themselves. He could live with that. 

No, the real terrible part were the fans meeting them for autographs who told him about every flaw they could see, telling him to quit the band, that he didn’t look good enough, that his anger issues were the true reason why Deuce left. Fans with no respect for anything. But he couldn’t tell them to fuck off, because then his band mates would notice something was wrong. And who was he to admit to anything hurting his pride. Especially not to them. 

 - 

This had been going on for little over a month, quietly taking in all the hate he received, but by now the band noticed something was off. While it was completely normal for George to retreat to his bunk a lot to read and sometimes snap at people, both was taking over everything he did. He barely ate, continued to hit the gym more often than before and spent hours in the bathroom without actually doing anything. 

“We need to talk to him …”, J-Dog mused when George hid away in his bunk early again, shutting the black notebook he had been sketching in. 

“But will he actually respond to us?”, Danny asked back, raising his eyebrows.

“Probably not, but we should try anyways.” 

Jay shrugged, slowly standing up from his position on the couch. 

“I’ll just check on him. You guys stay here.” 

The rest of the band nodded, all focusing more on the movie playing on the TV than their band member. J-Dog rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment on it, opening the door to the bunks part. 

“Johnny? Still awake?”  
A quiet groan was the only response he got.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”  
Shuffling. Then, George pulled back his curtain, looking at his band mate. He appeared to be tired, worn out and rather pale, but not worryingly.

“Are you okay? You getting sick?”, he asked, hoping that was the only reason that his friend had become so silent, even though he highly doubted that. 

“Just fine. Feeling a little under the weather, that’s all.” 

J-Dog raised his eyebrows, obviously not believing the older one. He knew that it had to be something bigger than that to make George shut them out. 

“Nothing to do with Deuce either?”, he questioned further on, and by the way Johnny flinched, he knew that he was hitting a nerve there. Not that it was hard to guess after what they’d been through with the ex-lead singer. 

“Not directly”, George sighed, slowly giving in to his friend. He didn’t want to talk about it, but at the same time, he knew it was no good keeping everything bottled up again. 

“Not directly? What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“You can’t really help me anyways, so what’s the deal?”

“Come on, don’t shut me out like that. You can choose between talking to me or someone else from the band. Tell me a name or talk to me.”

The older rapper sighed, but nodded slowly, pulling his knees up to make some room for his friend. Jay smiled softly and jumped on the bunk, crossing his legs, before looking at George expectantly. 

“So what’s got you so moody?”

“Deuce’s last single.” 

J-Dog frowned, clearly not happy with this answer.

“When We Ride? But I thought that it wasn’t directly about Deuce …” 

“It’s not. Just … that line about me … I don’t care about it, not really. I can ignore lyrics, ignore Deuce. I can also ignore the haters on Twitter who are such pussies they don’t dare to do it outside the anonymous internet.”

He stopped to take a deep breath, keeping his eyes fixated on his hands not to look at his friend. He didn’t want to know how the younger one looked at him. 

“But …?”, Jay carefully asked on, not wanting to force Johnny to do anything that he was really uncomfortable with, but also being too curious not to ask. 

“But I’m getting tired of fans coming up to me to tell me I’m getting too fat, that I should just quit the band, that I’m the reason Deuce left and that I should simply kill myself. I want to ignore them, I do, but I can’t. I simply can’t anymore”, by the end George’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

Too shocked to say anything, J-Dog simply took the older one’s hand in his, before hugging him tightly, holding on until George softly pushed his chest back. 

“No chick flick moments.”  
The younger rapper nodded, smirking a little, beforeadding: “If you say so. But you know what? The next time some so-called fan says shit like that to you, just tap my leg and I’ll make their life a fucking living hell.” 

George laughed, nodding slowly and pulling J-Dog back in for a hug. He knew that no matter what, his band would always have his back, and that all these fake fans could gladly suck his dick.


	2. Then I'm Gone ...

Usually, Jay knew perfectly how to fight back against most thugs, but somehow, this group had managed to overwhelm him. He didn’t even know what they wanted from him. In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered one of them talking about him being a good catch for their boss. Whoever that was. J-Dog felt like he was in a James Bond movie, but he had a feeling that no British agent would come to save him. No American agent either. He had been at the wrong place at the wrong time and now he would probably meet some drug gang boss, before being shot in the head. Just brilliant. 

Weirdly enough, J-Dog found himself not being scared of death itself, or meeting that mysterious boss. He honestly didn’t care. Growing up in Los Angeles, he had always been aware of street crime, so being involved in it wasn’t as much of a surprise.Of course, he worried about his band mates, about his siblings, but in the end, he would gladly die if it meant that it wouldn’t hit the people close to him. For now, he simply had to wait, listening to the conversation between two of the thugs, even though it was no use for him. They were discussing the latest Football games, but it was better than debating life and death.

In fact, a lot of things were better than debating if he was gonna die or not. He didn’t want to know that at the moment, he wanted to ignore the fact that he was in a gang’s car on his way to the head of a drug cartel or something similar. Any lyrics he ever sang, about getting rid of every enemy and being the scariest gang alive popped up in his head, but he couldn’t do anything about it. What should he do? Jump up and start shouting: “I'm puttin' 22 down while I'm pukin' up blood // You know I'm here to stay well fuck I'm gonna die young!” Then, he would definitely be shot in the head. Or should he start singing and hope that their ears would burst? Obviously, he had no fucking clue on what to do and simply hoped that somebody would decide for him. Or that mysteriously, the guys would show up and free him, killing the thugs and getting him to safety. Unlikely. 

-

Three hours had passed, when J-Dog was finally dragged out of the car, into an old warehouse that was guarded by two broad guys with hoods pulled deep down into their faces so that Jay could only see their lips pressed into a tight line. They barely glanced at him, clearly not giving a shit about the crime taking place here, before letting them all pass into a big room, more of a hall really, where a surprisingly young guy of maybe twenty years was standing, glancing at the kidnapped rapper with an evil smirk tugging on the lips of his corner. 

“Look at who we caught now. A stray dog. More of a puppy, I see. J-Dog from Hollywood Undead, I believe. Quite famous.”

J-Dog growled deeply, thinking of ways to hurt that stranger, but he was held back by the thugs, his shoulder was injured from the first fight with them. 

“You’ll be a nice addition to my collection …”, the man continued, gently stroking the rapper’s cheek. For a second Jay wanted to reply something sarcastic, something witty. But he was too scared. Usually, he was a tough guy, but he was too close to possible death to try to resist them for something as stupid as some touching of his cheek and a mysterious quote that unsettled his stomach. 

“What collection?”, the rapper asked uneasily, eyes wandering around the hall, stopping at the thugs to try and read their emotion, but they didn’t flinch at all, stared ahead like dead guys. 

Meanwhile the stranger laughed creepily, before walking over to an old shelf hidden in the shadows and beckoning J-Dog to come a little closer so that he could see better. When the rapper did reluctantly, he noticed that it was packed with heads. Actual heads. Preserved ones in jars, their white eyes watching J-Dog from beyond. He was shaking like a leaf now, thinking of all the stories behind those heads, the people and their friends, their families. What they had gone through. Where were they picked up from? J-Dog had been walking home from a club in L.A., not the safest place around, but some of these heads belonged to children. Did this weird man abduct children from schools and playgrounds, only to keep their heads as trophies? What a psycho!

- 

But then, from maybe a few feet away, just behind the walls, J-Dog thought he heard the guys’ voices. Looking out for him. How had they found him? His phone was still in the alley where they caught him, he didn’t know of any other signals which could have lead them here. Or was he only imagining it?

Before he could listen more closely, he heard the sound of a gun being fired two times. Then, a sharp pain hit his head, immediately followed by more in his chest. And just when he realized what was happening, the world turned black and he sank down to the cold floor. No chance for help anymore. Simply dead.


	3. Now You're Stuck In This Place You Hate (And You Came Here So Happily)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back ...

“I told you we should’ve gone up the stairs”, George complained half-heartedly when the lift shuddered, before stopping completely. Jay agreed numbly, sighing quietly before sitting down on the cold floor, Charlie following his example after pressing the emergency button. Johnny stayed where he was, apparently trying to glare down the lift, still Jay noticed him trembling ever so slightly. 

“Are you okay, bro?” 

“Brilliant.”

Of course, J-Dog wasn’t fooled by such a white lie, but before he could answer something or press further, the speakers in the lift turned on and the voice of a young man filled the cabin: “We are terribly sorry for this inconvenience. Help is already on the way and we’ll get you out in a few minutes. Does anyone of you require medical attention?” 

The three band mates glanced at each other, before Johnny answered: “We’re fine.”

“That’s good. We’ll have you out soon.” 

They didn’t respond and so the speakers turned off again with a quiet clicking sound. 

“That’s some fucked up shit, man”, Charlie mumbled, to nobody in particular, before putting on his headphones to listen to some music to distract himself. He wasn’t claustrophobic, that didn’t mean he enjoyed being trapped in a lift though. Johnny agreed quickly, starting to rub his neck uneasily, which was meant to be subtle, but J-Dog noticed immediately, becoming more worried. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I said I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” 

Jay chuckled dryly before standing up again to place a hand on Johnny’s shoulder comfortingly. 

“We’ll be out any second. They know we’re here. They’re working on getting us out.” 

The older nodded slowly, taking a deep breath before leaning forwards to hide his face in Jay’s shoulder who wrapped his arms around his band mate, pulling him close to his chest. Charlie looked up from his phone for a second to see them, quickly coming up to them, putting his arm on Johnny’s back. When the blue-masked rapper’s breath started becoming a little more rapid, J-Dog pulled him even closer, so that their bodies were hard to tell apart, whilst looking at Charlie, motioning towards the speaker. 

“Get them to call a doc.” 

Johnny shook his head, trying to push away from his band mate again, who didn’t let him go.

“I’ll be okay!”, he mumbled, but the other rappers ignored that. Instead, Charlie pressed the emergency button again, to which the speakers turned on again.

“We do need a doc when we get out. One’s starting to hyperventilate.” 

There was a short break, someone at the other end shouting. 

“We’ll get some EMTs ready for you. Five more minutes then we’ll have you out of there. We’re working as fast as possible.”

Instead of replying directly, Charlie gave him a thumbs up in the direction of the camera, turning back to where J-Dog was trying to coax the older rapper into sitting down on the floor. 

“I won’t sit down like some grandma, Jay!”  
“You’ll be getting dizzy if you keep standing.” 

Johnny shrugged, but the way he kept blinking rapidly showed to his band mates he would sit down very soon or simply collapse on the floor. J-Dog kept holding onto him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, whilst Charlie put on some music to fill the lift and change up the atmosphere. 

“You’re gonna be alright . . . They know what they have to do”, Jay chimed in quietly, starting to rub the older’s back slowly.  
“I don’t care if they know what to do!”, Johnny whispered, voice shaking. All the stubbornness from just a second ago was gone, he looked as if he was only a second short of breaking completely. 

Charlie awed quietly, coming up towards them again before grabbing Johnny’s hand loosely. Nothing was weirder to him than watching his best friend, who was usually the toughest guy around, freak out. Not weird in the sense that he liked it, but in the way it simply felt wrong. 

J-Dog glanced at Charlie again, opening his mouth to say something, but at that second, the lift moved, shuttering before going downwards. Needless to say that Johnny was freaking out, gripping Jay’s shirt tightly. This lift was moving downwards too fast for his liking and hadn’t they been going upwards before?  
But then it stopped and the doors finally opened. Charlie quickly stepped out, giving Johnny more space in the elevator. J-Dog followed quickly, supporting Johnny full who was still not daring to look up, trying to control his breathing. Now, outside the lift, J-Dog managed to coax him into sitting down on the floor in the hallway. Just as he leaned back against the wall, two EMTs walked up to them, breathing mask in hand. 

“How are you feeling?”

Johnny shook his head, not able to answer. He was dizzy. He was still freaking out. He wanted to be left alone in his bunk and pass out. 

Whilst one of the EMTs kept trying to talk to Johnny, the other one looked up to Jay and Charlie who both had stepped away a little bit to stay in sight for Johnny if he looked up, but let the EMTs do their jobs. 

“Is he claustrophobic? Has this happened before?”

“We never witnessed anything remotely similar with him”, Jay answered, not looking away from his band mate who suddenly stared back at him, taking deeper breaths now. Charlie quickly walked over to him, sitting down next to his best friend again, letting him lean against his side to relax again. 

“Will he be okay?”, J-Dog asked the EMT, noticing how Johnny was still shaking. 

“Yes. He should be fine after a little bit of rest. Maybe a little weary in closed rooms and especially lifts for a few days, depends on his character.”

Jay nodded, already knowing that there was no way Johnny would do anything but sleep for the rest of the day, complain for two days and walk up every stair case he could find for a year at least. But they were all alive and still breathing, so Jay tried to relax again, sitting down with his friends to join in on the hug.


	4. Lock Me Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by AwokenMonster; I didn't know where exactly to go with this one, but I hope you like it.

**Time to listen to my confession.**

As I was standing before you, rain dropping down onto the floor, maybe mixed with some stray tears I didn’t notice. I didn’t know why I ran here, probably only because Johnny told me not to complain to him if I never talked to you.

**I'm much less than I wanted to be, wanted to be.**

I wanted to be happy around you, with you, but instead I hid away, scared of what you will think, that you would push me away. Maybe that’s why I married, to get over the fact that you have a wife as well. But in my head, they don’t exist, it’s just you and me. 

**You shine a light on my dark side, but you**

**Don't care what you see.**

After all you were the one to pick me back up from the ground. I was only seconds away from being buried six feet below, but you saved me. You saved me and didn’t tell me I was crazy, that I needed to be in a psychiatry, that you didn’t trust me anymore. You simply asked me to talk to you or anybody. Or really, anything. I could talk to the lamppost and you wouldn’t put me in a psychiatry. Maybe you would check how much I drank …

 

And then I did. I did tell you. Everything. About how every time you come closer to me, or even just look at me or send me a text message, my heart skips a beat. How I would sometimes write lyrics to you when you were away, but always burnt them in fear of being caught. And I could prove it all. Ask Johnny. He was mad at me for always rambling on about you.

**Overjoyed.**

You didn’t let me go. You smiled at me, brighter than the sun. And then, you kissed me. Carefully at first, but it quickly turned a lot more heated. For that second I forgot about everything I had to worry about, the band, my wife, my family. They didn’t matter. Because I had you. And nothing could be better. 

**Over you.**

The next day, you didn’t seem to remember at all. All the passion, all the happiness in your eyes, it was gone. Once again I was played the fool, but I didn’t think you would be the one to do it. 

**Overnight.**

What changes during six hours of sleep? What could possible happen? Why did you have your mind made up in the evening, but showed nothing but regret in the morning?

**But that's what you do.**

I didn’t believe, didn’t want to believe that you did this just to hurt me. I believe you were scared. Of the others, the public image, your wife, your parents, I didn’t know. 

 

When I asked you directly, you turned away, but still admitted something: you were scared of losing me after you had fallen for me. You didn’t want to hurt me, but didn’t see another way. I could give you another way …

**Why don't you lock me up with joy and kisses?**

**Lock me up with love?**

I promised you not to leave you. I promised not to tell the others before you were ready. We kept the relationship a secret for months, but I didn’t complain, and I certainly didn’t break my promise. 

**Chain me to your heart's desire**

**I don't want you to stop**

And seriously, there is nothing I wanted you more to do than hear you state you were in love with me to anybody we knew over and over again. You didn’t want to let me do it (and quite frankly, I was relieved about it). The reactions were mostly similar: the boys started laughing and handing out money to Johnny. Granted, that bet had been a little unfair for them, but who was I to care? Our families congratulated us and although they both were a little off about us being gay and not happily married, they got over it quickly. My wife already knew I was gay, she completely freaked out in a mess of squeals and hugs, rambling about how much she shipped us. His wife was a different kind. She had hoped to build up a family with him. That dream was shattered quickly. However, she didn’t seem mad about him, and simply hugged us both for a long time, wishing us to be happy. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a woman so in control of herself. 

**Lock me in and hold this moment, never get enough**

Soon, I started to actually like photoshoots with the band. Granted, they weren’t always that fun at first, but looking back at them and remembering the stories we shared is still what Iwanted to remember forever. 

**Ain't no way I'm ever breaking free**

By now, I was completely lost in your eyes, your soul. I wasyours. There was no escape, you were the one keeping me alive and breathing, who reminded me to eat something when I forgot, who reminded me to sleep when I was sitting awake at four a.m. writing lyrics. I owed you my life. 

**Lock me up**

And because you let me fall again, when I had already planned our wedding as the best day of our lives, because you didn’t want to get married to me. Because of you, I stand on this bridge, staring down in the wild waters underneath. Because of you I jump to fall one last time. 


End file.
